Desi Indian Village Girl Fucking Mms Part 1

I remained naked except for the device and walked around my house with it gently throbbing against my clit. I cooked my evening meal wearing it, did some ironing, watched telly, even phoned my mum with the steady flow of juices running from my crack, teetering on the edge of orgasm for hours. I was in heaven. Eventually, at the end of my evening with Madame Butterfly, I turned it up to '5' and she rewarded my patience with a mind-blowing, squirting orgasm which proved that it was waterproof, at least.Next morning, I excitedly dressed for work. I started with the Butterfly, strapping her into place, and couldn't resist setting it to 'number 1' whilst I put on some panties, bra, blouse and tight jeans. The tight jeans had the effect of pressing the butterfly directly against my clit so that, even on '1', I think I would not have been able to hold back like the night before. I switched it off. I dropped my jeans a little and fed the remote between my legs so that its cable was between. But the joy was short-lived when I peered out and immediately saw the car parked in our drive wasn’t Jill’s – it was Callan’s car.What the fuck? What was Callan’s car doing rolling into my driveway at half-past midnight on a Saturday morning? Despite how we’d first gotten to know each other, he was a friend and I knew he was still going through rough times trying to rebuild his marriage to Charlotte. But twelve-thirty on Saturday morning? Even in the best of friendships, there are limits. Especially as given Jill and Charlotte’s closeness, I was pretty sure he knew where Jill had been tonight and therefore what kind of a place I was in. Not exactly a place and mood to play agony aunt and comforting friend to Callan if he and Charlotte had had some kind of falling out.I was just about to march out and tell Callan that now wasn’t the time when the screen of my phone lit up with an incoming message. I say ‘message’ in the singular, but no sooner had the first message arrived, than it.
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